


TSES One-Shots

by thatsoccercoach



Series: TSES [2]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Fluff, Love, self doubt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-07-01 08:37:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15770493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: This one-shot is set in the TSES world long before those stories begin. You’d have more context if you read the series first, but this could stand alone if you don’t have the time to brew your coffee and read the whole series!





	1. Uncle Lamb and Fergus

                                                          

If there was anything Uncle Lamb had taught her, it was what love looked like. When she talked about him, she knew people pictured a scholarly old man, Lambert Quentin Beauchamp, with a pipe lecturing in old halls at historic universities. In reality, he’d been in his late 20’s when he’d “inherited” her. He’d been the cargo pants, socks-and-sandals, nerdy sort of professor. He hadn’t owned a car. He’d lived in an awkwardly remodeled structure that had once been a historic church.

And when toddler Claire had come into his life, he’d put himself in second place and had made her well-being his priority.

His house became her home. His office became her playground. The back of his bicycle was her car seat (or sailboat or rocket ship).

His coffee money went to buy her hair bows, new picture books, or doughnuts.

His plans and savings for retirement turned into plans and funds for her college education.

Instead of her mother, it had been Lamb who, not awkwardly at all but with near reverence, carefully explained to pre-teen Claire how her body was changing and what was to come so she wouldn’t fear it. In place of her father, her uncle had (overly) firmly grasped the hand of the first boy to take her on a date and had hovered at the front window as he returned her home again.

Uncle Lamb showed her that love wasn’t merely a feeling inside of you, but a choice you made every day. And sometimes it was the choice to sacrifice in big ways, sometimes because that was the _right_ thing to do and sometimes because it made your life, and the life of someone else, infinitely better.

After student teaching abroad for a semester, Claire was now returning home with someone to love. She had undergone countless interviews and investigations, provided numerous documents, signed an endless stream of papers, and stood before a judge to get where she was today: Holding one tiny Fergus Beauchamp with whom she’d fallen unexpectedly yet completely in love.

She’d always held the idea of becoming a mother in the back of her mind, battling with the fact that she’d hardly even known the mother she had. But she knew how to love.

With the sudden loss of her uncle, her absolute certainty of the importance of family had fallen into place. She’d been discussing it with her long-term boyfriend who had abruptly revealed that _talking_ about children was completely different than _actually_ wanting them. Which he apparently did not. Supposedly, _talking_ about being committed to one another was as far as he was willing to go at this point in his life. She’d decided he could just go talk to someone else.

Becoming a single mother by choice had been an internal (and occasionally external) battle that she’d gone into with her eyes wide open (if not the tiniest bit brokenhearted). If two heads were better than one, weren’t two parents better? _That_ wasn’t an option at this time anyway. Was one better than none? She knew that she wouldn’t have changed her time with Uncle Lamb for the world.

So she’d adopted Fergus.

He let out a squawk from where he was nestled in her arms as she boarded the plane for the flight home. The doubts began in earnest then.

 _What_ had she done?!

What if he fussed the entire flight home? An international flight from France to the United States was a long time to deal with an inconsolable infant. What if he _never_ stopped crying? Not literally never, but what if he was one of those fussy babies who cried whether they were fed or held or changed? What if she couldn’t find childcare when she got home? She could afford it (barely). She’d checked into that. But what if there were no available spots? Infant rooms at daycares were notorious for their lengthy wait-lists and most families had near to nine months to get on one!

What if she’d adopted a baby with intense medical needs? His history had so many blank spots. What if he had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome? What if he developed vision problems? Hearing problems? Had a heart defect that hadn’t been discovered yet?

 _Breathe, Beauchamp_ she reminded herself. _You were asked all these questions on forms and in interviews as well as considering all these things yourself and you never hesitated. You’ve been through hundreds of what-ifs and did this anyway. Buck up!_

Fergus did fuss as the plane took off and ascended to cruising altitude but it was nothing unreasonable. She cooed and sang to him and he snuggled close, his unusually thick and wild hair springing out of his blanket wrapping. He took a bottle, devouring it as if he’d never been fed in his life (as opposed to the reality that he’d eaten a mere hour before boarding.)

Then, with wild eyes searching for the flight attendant ( _Sasha? Susan?_ ) who’d helped them get settled on board the plane, she handed off the baby and went to shut herself in the tiny lavatory and get her act together.

She could do this. She was doing this.

A few deep breaths.

A splash of cool water on her face.

Another pep talk given to herself and then a return to her new reality.

“Let’s get you back to Mommy, huh?” Susan cooed, transferring him back to Claire’s waiting arms. Saying those exact words that were integral for her to hear. Naming her as someone’s mother. As Fergus’ mother.

 _I’m someone’s mommy now_ , the thought flew through her mind bringing with it a slew of happy emotions.

The doubts would probably always be there and as her son ( _her son!_ ) grew there would be new concerns that arose. But though she’d grown up without her parents, there had been one in her life who had taught her how to love. Her family would be proud.

Now it was her turn to show her son what a mother’s love looked like.


	2. A Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dream, a hope, a life? A future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is best read after Tall, Strong, and Extra Scot or accompanying The Extra Shot (because it'll have light spoilers for TSES!)

                                                             

They sat at a large a table near the windows. Even at a distance, one could see certain details that evoked a certain joy or hopefulness. The love between them was palpable.

His hands both reached across the table and held one of hers ensconced between. The skin on all of them was wrinkled, paper-thin. Veins stood out prominently in squiggly highways. If you tried hard enough, you could almost see what those hands had done in their long lives.

His, it seemed, had built a legacy. They were strong in spite of age, appearing as if they could carry the weight of the world or at the very least the cares of a family. Hers looked as if they’d created and led. Slender fingers that probably moved as she spoke, painting pictures in the air in front of her.

Though the couple, for clearly they were one, was surrounded by family, they seemed completely caught up in their own little world. One could say “surrounded by family” because judging from appearance, that was the only logical assumption.

The man, hair faded and thinning, still sported curls that had turned a soft buttery color instead of white. His beloved had mad curls of her own in a striking silver that gave her a strangely regal look. The rest of the table sported an interesting combination of curls, reds, and variegated browns upon their heads (aside from the middle-aged man who was balding and the teen with an unnatural shade of blue.)

One of the family members ( _A daughter? Maybe a granddaughter?_ ) mentioned using the bathroom and passed a fussy infant off to the woman who accepted with a look of purest adoration on her face. The man sat back and the room could nearly see the memories playing in his mind’s eye as he watched the woman rock the baby, crooning softly. One could almost imagine them, years before, with a small blanket-wrapped bundle containing a brand new squalling infant cradled between them.

A server came. A bill was paid. Family members began to leave.

Then the elderly pair stood and walked, arm in arm from the restaurant.

Jamie and Claire watched it all from their booth in the corner where they were finishing dessert.

“Someday, Jamie,” Claire trailed off, tears hanging tenuously from the ends of her lashes.

“Aye,” he said. Knowing what she meant in spite of her not finishing. “Someday that will be us, Sassenach.” He reached His hands across the table and held one of hers ensconced between.

And together they began their own _someday_.


	3. The Dinner Cruise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire go on a date...sort of.

                                                             

Charlie had ended up with them a few times on accident as well as the few that had been purposeful. _Everyone_ had a confusing schedule this fall. The boys were managing school and sports and Murtagh was covering for Jamie on occasion at work as well as playing chauffeur. Jamie was balancing work, school, and coaching the boys and Claire was picking up the slack for everyone as they attempted to juggle everything else. And that’s where Charlie came in.

Friends since their earliest school days, Robbie and Charlotte continued to enjoy visiting with one another as often as they could. Since both Fraser boys were busy with soccer after school, their schedules had become a bit cramped, so Charlotte had been coming home to have dinner with them on occasion.

Today though, the three children were all stuck at Claire’s school while she finished up her jobs for the day.

“Mom? Can Robbie and I go play outside until it’s time to go home?” Fergus stood before her, eyes pleading along with his voice.

“You may, yes. Take your jacket though. You can always just set it aside once you’re out there,” she suggested.

“Can I stay in with you, Mrs. Fraser? I have some things I want to finish before we all go home together.” Charlotte, though she did enjoy playing with the boys, was ever the organizer and she had her binder and planner spread before her while she used Claire’s highlighters.

Claire nodded her head and was about to answer when her son interjected.

“You’d rather do _that_ than play?” Fergus asked, incredulous.

“C’mon, Fergus,” Robbie laughed. “She does this lots, you know that already. Let’s go and leave them to their ‘girl time,’” he pulled Fergus along behind him as he went out the door.

“Oh, the girl time. That.”

Fergus’ voice could be heard down the hall and Charlie stifled a giggle with her hand.

“I suppose we should make the most of the ‘girl time’ then,” Claire laughed along with her young companion.

“Well, last time we talked about hair,” Charlotte jumped into the conversation with zeal. “And I’ve been ‘plopping’ my curls like you said I should try and things have been _way_ less of a mess. I mean, my hair is still crazy, but it’s not sloppy crazy, just curly crazy. So,” she continued to ramble. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

Claire lowered the laminated bulletin board decorations she was trimming to meet the girl’s gaze. “What did you want to talk about.”

“Maybe,” she let the word hand for a moment before she continued hesitantly. “Maybe you could tell me about boys?” She phrased it as a question and it hung in the space between the two of them for a moment before Claire took it up and began speaking.

“What is it that you’re curious about?” That was surely a loaded question for a pre-teen girl to answer, and yet Claire knew if Charlie trusted her enough to ask, she was going to do her best to give an honest answer.

“Like, does Mr. Fraser ever do anything romantic for you?”

Claire breathed a small sigh of relief and smiled. “Oh, he’s always thinking of me and doing little things. Recently he planned something incredibly special for us to enjoy together.”

* * *

She knew they were going on a date that evening. Jamie had asked her to set aside the time over a month ago. He’d gone into their closet and picked out a couple dresses that she only wore on rare occasion and told her to pick between those ones so that she’d be ready. She’d nearly clapped her hands in excitement. A fancy date, just the two of them, getting out of the house, away from work. With all that was going on lately, it was thrilling just to have the time away even if it was only for the evening.

Her husband looked _extremely_ attractive when he dressed up. People always talked about women looking sexy while wearing fancy dresses but men dressed in formal attire were vastly underrated. Had the boys not been with them, she _easily_ could have just stayed home with her husband at that point. With the slightest scruff on his jawline and his hair just long enough to curl, she desperately wanted to retrace their steps to the bedroom and shut the door behind them.

“Mom!” Fergus called out, running up to her. “Can we watch the new Star Wars movie with Murtagh? Please? Tomorrow is still the weekend so it won’t be too late to stay up.” He begged not just with words, but with his eyes as well. Robbie joined him in the effort mercilessly turning a puppy face upon her.

She sighed but she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “Start it early that way you’re not up so late.” She turned toward Murtagh. “I do hope that’s alright with you. You usually watch a movie with them, right?”

“Aye, ‘tis fine.” He looked at the boys then. “Though I still dinna understand that Jar Jar beastie.”

“He’s not even _in_ these ones, Murtagh!” Robbie rolled his eyes. “That’s from episodes one and two and maybe three? We’re not watching those. We don’t even like to talk about those, ok?”

“Yeah, we don’t talk about those ones,” Fergus echoed.

Eventually, Jamie cupped Claire’s elbow in his large palm and guided her toward the door and then their car escaping the goings-on of the house.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or is it a surprise until we get there?” she teased.

“I’ll tell you. I don’t think it would be a surprise if I tried to keep it until the very end,” he chuckled. “We’re going on a dinner cruise around the-” he stopped and gave a yelp when she reached a hand over excitedly and grabbed onto his thigh.

“Oh, sorry, it’s just I’ve wanted to do that for ages but I’ve never been able to!”

“Aye, I know you have,” he smiled and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel once more now that her fingers weren’t digging into his leg. “That’s why we’re doing it.”

He parked and ran around to her side of the car before she could get out, just so he could offer her a hand. Usually she just got out herself. Usually he allowed her to be independent. But tonight was a night where he planned to pamper his wife and, as she was balancing on high heels, she wasn’t going to turn him down. They boarded, arm in arm, ready for a new adventure.

The adventure lasted approximately seventeen minutes into the dinner cruise on which they did _not_ have dinner due to Jamie’s violent seasickness.

“I’m _so_ sorry, love,” Claire soothed as they sat in their parked car and she stroked his hair off his still-sweaty forehead.

“All I wanted was to take you on a date. To show you how special ye are and how much ye mean to me.” He mumbled the words but his eyes conveyed the importance of his message.

“Well,” she paused. “I can think of a little coffee shop I’d like to go to. It’s got this red-headed Scot who makes the loveliest coffee and-” she broke off as he jumped in.

“Should I be jealous of this Scot then?” he bantered, clearly beginning to improve.

“You might be, I suppose. Do you think that we maybe could go before it opens up to customers? That would be a special date,” she smiled warmly at him.

“I suppose that could be arranged. But first, I think you should tell me more about this Scot.” He settled onto the passenger seat and buckled as she turned to take the wheel.

“Well, he’s handsome, creative, dedicated both to his family and his work,” she began.

“Oh, aye? Sounds like a good man,” Jamie said.

“He is. He’s tall, strong, and Scot, but best of all he’s _mine_ ,” she smirked at him playfully as she pulled away from the parking lot.

“I bet he is.”


	4. What You Forgot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie reminds Jamie that he seems to have forgotten something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot is probably best read in between Tall, Strong and Extra Scot and the sequel The Extra Shot.

                                                            

“Hey, Jamie?”

He looked up at his younger brother. Claire had been working with Fergus at the kitchen table. One of his homework assignments had not been going well and they’d settled in for the long haul so Jamie had taken the book he was reading out to the couch. Robbie had been...Actually, he didn’t know what Robbie had been doing.

_I need to be more aware of him_ he chastised himself. _The lad is my responsibility and my joy. I ought to pay more attention to him_.

Instead of continuing along that train of thought, he spoke. “C’mere, Rob. Wha’ is it?”

“Well, it’s only that you and Claire have been married for, like, _months_ now, right?” he raised his eyebrows as he strode toward the couch.

Unceremoniously he flopped down on the side opposite Jamie, making the cushions bounce with his impact. _So that’s what Claire means about the way I flop into bed_ he realized (after months of marriage).

“Aye, we have,” he replied, carefully, not knowing where this was going.

“Well, here’s what I think,” Robbie began without preamble. “You know that it’s awful not having any parents. But Fergus gets to have a mom _and_ a dad now. So...”

The sentence hung in the air and Jamie sat there, puzzled, waiting for his brother to clear things up before he began. Rob didn’t add anything though.

“I know it’s no fun not to have Mam and Da. _I_ still get upset and frustrated over the fact sometimes though. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“No. We need to talk about Fergus,” Robbie replied as if it were obvious.

“Is there something wrong? I thought all was well wi’ him,” he replied.

“It _is_ going well with him, but I think you and Claire forgot something.” His younger brother gave him a pointed look.

“I-” he began, stymied. “Do you want to tell me what we forgot because I’m not sure where ye’re going wi’ this?”

“Sure. I’ll tell you,” he nodded and continued in a helpful tone. “You forgot to adopt Fergus.”

“We what?” he asked, blankly.

“You forgot to adopt Fergus. Like, we all know you love him and he calls you ‘Dad’ and you _act_ like a dad too, but you forgot to actually adopt him.”

There were reasons he hadn’t legally adopted Fergus. The most obvious reason being that he and Claire had married rather abruptly and there were other matters to settle before an adoption could be made official. Another reason was that _he_ and _Claire_ had chosen to get married. The kids hadn’t chosen the scenario that they were living out right now. And though he frequently declared his love and affection for Fergus, though he called him his son, it hadn’t seemed right to assume that he’d want that changed legally.

Maybe that had been wrong.

“I know you think of Fergus as your son now,” Rob said what had been in his thoughts only moments before. “And Fergus knows it too, but I think you should make it official. And if you and Claire ever have your own kids together, _I_ think it would be really important for Fergus to know that you chose him. But I’m just a kid so…” he trailed off with a shrug, knowing full well that the final sentence would _actually_ make is brother evaluate his words even more closely.

Jamie paused before answering. He set his book down and nudged Robbie’s shoulder playfully. “Thanks for watching out for our family, for caring about Fergus and about how we’re all working to build a future.”

“We’ve all got to do the best we can. We’ve all got to work together,” he said.

“Aye,” was all Jamie could manage through his throat, choked with pride over his brother.

“Don’t come in!” yelled the small voice at bedtime a few nights later.

Jamie chuckled to himself before talking through the door. “What are you up to, Fergus?”

“Nothing _bad_ ,” he explained amidst shuffling noises. “I’m working on a drawing for Father’s Day and you can’t see it yet. Do you promise not to look under my desk if I let you in?” Fergus’ voice drew closer to the door until Jamie heard a small thump. The door handle rattled then turned.

“Well?” Fergus probed, peering out. “You won’t peek, will you?”

“I won’t peek. Can I come in and say goodnight?” He rested his hand on the door jam, waiting.

“Okay,” Fergus flung the door wide and scrambled across the room to his bed, leaping onto the comforter.

“G’night, Fergus,” he said softly. He reached out and ruffled the boy’s curls as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Uh huh,” he grunted back.

“Is it okay if I just give you a picture for Fathers Day? I mean, I think my mom will take me to get you a real gift or something, but the part that’s really from me is just a picture. Is that okay?”

Large, round eyes watched his face. He smiled at Fergus and laid back next to him. The boy immediately flung himself onto Jamie’s outstretched arm and snuggled close.

“I’ll love anything you give me, Fergus, because I love _you_.”

“I love you too, Dad,” he grinned.

“But I do have an idea of something you could do,” he said. “ _If_ you wanted to, that is.”

“What?” Fergus popped up like a jack-in-the-box.

“You could make me yer dad according to the law. You could let me adopt you,” he suggested.

“I’ll have to talk to my mom about that,” he said, as if Claire was a total stranger, as if she wasn’t married to the man he was talking with right now.

Jamie chuckled softly. “You do that. Because I’ll always love you no matter what, but I’d like to be your dad in every way I can, if you’ll let me.”

“I’ll get back to you on that, okay?” Fergus nodded then rolled into Jamie’s side for a hug.

That Father’s Day was one they’d always remember.


	5. The Flood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire has a classroom disaster!

                                                            

_How is your morning going?_

The glowing (unanswered) text from the screen of her phone was burned onto the back of her closed eyeballs. Her eyes were closed because of the insanity unfolding around her. The text was unanswered because she didn’t currently have words to describe her morning. Maybe groaning or grunts would have sufficed. _Would Jamie be able to interpret those?_

It hadn’t begun as a terrible morning at all. Jamie had put coffee in a travel mug for her before they all left the house, everyone had been on time, traffic had been lighter than normal even. She’d hollered a “hello” to Mary before entering her own classroom. Her own _flooded_ classroom.

The new building had always been wonderful up to this point. Aside from moving in and unpacking, never enjoyable prospects, her classroom had been lovely. Right next door was Mary. If she ever got caught up in some sort of situation, she just popped her head ‘round the corner to find support from her friend. When she needed somebody to proofread an email before she sent it out, Mary would come over and check it. The room was quiet, allowing her students to work with minimal distractions. The walls and carpet were clean and unstained. All the cupboard doors still shut because none were warped with moisture or age. Daylight came in through the windows at an angle that brought light but never glare. It was a perfect classroom.

_Was_ being the operative word.

Now the room was the site of an epic flood. Last night had seen one of the most torrential downpours of the entire year. This morning and seen the discovery that a drain pipe hadn’t been properly connected and with the deluge last night, things had gone massively awry.

“Claire?” Don, head of maintenance stood before her. “I’ll get right to work on the pipe, finding the source of the flood and all that, but you might want to get the books and papers off the bottom of your bookshelves.” He shrugged. “Just a thought.”

“Thanks, Don,” she sighed. “I’ll do that.” She didn’t know _when_ she’d do that. School was starting in 15 minutes and she was being temporarily relocated to a portable across the campus. She grabbed her laptop, planner, and a few copies and books, struggling to balance them all, and began her trek to her “new” classroom.

She texted Jamie a few minutes later.

_My day went downhill quickly. My classroom somehow flooded with the rain last night and the books on the lower shelves need to be rescued but I am going to be busy teaching so idk when that will even happen. I want a back rub when I finally get home, k?_

She hit send and then began the mad scramble to prepare herself for teaching. Worksheets ready. ActivBoard remote missing?! Well, she could stand on the desk to reach the projector’s power button so it wasn’t technically _impossible_ to use.

_“Gosh darn fudging flood!”_ she muttered, slipping out of her loafers and climbing awkwardly onto the desk to reach the elusive button above her head.

“Mrs. Fraser?” The door to the portable rattled loudly and she narrowly escaped a fall of the desk.

“Crap,” she spat out. “What is it?” Crouching, she lowered herself off the desk and back into her shoes.

“The door is locked. Can you let us in? It’s time for school, right?” The mysterious voice continued prattling, seeking entrance.

She huffed out a giant lungful of air and ran her fingers, sort of, through her Medusa-like curls…and began her day of teaching.

“Were those books the ones you needed to be moved or is there anything more you need help with?” Mrs. Graham called out as Claire breezed through the foyer of the school on the way to her real classroom.

“More?” She abruptly halted, nearly sending her laptop flying. Scrambling to readjust she finally looked over at the secretary. “I haven’t been able to move any of the books all day. Hopefully, things aren’t too bad, but I couldn’t even leave the portable for lunch! This day has been non-stop chaos from beginning to end.”

The frustration was starting to get to her and tears began to burn her eyes. She sniffed, hard, hoping to quell the internal storm.

“Oh, I know you haven’t been over there, but your Jamie came in this morning and moved it all so you’d not have any worries. I thought you already knew that he took care of things. All that’s left is for you to double check his work!” She beamed as if she’d been the one to rescue the classroom.

“He did what?” she stared dumbly at Mrs. Graham.

“Came in right around the time of first recess and checked in here at the office saying that you’d had a mishap in the classroom and he had an hour to spare and so was going to help out. I gave him a visitor badge and sent him on his way,” she explained. “So, you’ll let me know then if you need anything more?”

“I will, thank you, Mrs. Graham,” she forced through her throat which felt strangely fuzzy. Then she turned and continued her walk to the classroom, trying to steer with tear-filled eyes.

“Bloody man,” she whispered under her breath. “Coming in here and fixing this for me so I wouldn’t have to.” She smiled in spite of herself.

Walking through the propped open doorway to her classroom (and narrowly avoiding hitting her shins on the industrial box fan blowing on her damp carpet) to set down her armload of paraphernalia she’d been using all day. The moment her hands were free she dug her phone out and called her husband.

And abruptly began.

“I love you, James Fraser!”

“‘Tis good that Murtagh didn’t answer my phone just now then, eh?” he replied. “Though I do love you as well, wife. I assume you got back to class?”

“I did and I found that you rescued my things. Jamie, you can’t have had that much extra time today!” She _knew_ he didn’t. He had a full day of work followed by school.

“Maybe not ‘extra,’ but always worth spending it on you, Sassenach,” he said sweetly.

“Did you know that I find book-rescuers incredibly attractive?” she teased.

“So, ye found that,” he paused and lowered his voice to a whisper, “Sexy?”

“Are you at work?” she laughed.

“Aye. Hidin’ in the back room, thinking of you and getting…well, I’d rather be at home wi’ you at the moment.”

She could picture his cheeks flushed red and laughed again.

“How about this? I’ll go home and take care of the boys, the laundry, dinner and all of that so that when you do get home we’ll have no distractions, hmm?” She wasn’t teasing now. “Thanks for rescuing my books, Fraser.”

“I’ll rescue your books any day, wife.”

And he most certainly would.


	6. The Closing Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crazy scheduling change and a possible first date? Can they make it work?

                                                            

She’d just gotten a text from him. From Jamie Fraser.

_Can I call you? Or you call me? It shouldn’t take more than a moment._

Shooting back a quick, “Call you in a sec!” before telling Fergus to be good for the sitter, she headed out the door, heels of her boots smacking the front walk and driveway. She got in her car and gave a moment for her phone connect to the speaker before giving Jamie a call from her car, windows not yet defrosted, in the driveway.

“Claire?”

“It’s me,” she chirped back, cheerily. “I’m just about to head out to meet you. My car windows are still too foggy to see through though and I’m too cold to scrape them so I’m waiting for them to defrost.” She tucked her hands underneath her thighs hoping that sitting on them would warm them up before she began to drive.

“It’s about that.”

She heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line.

Tonight was their first real date, just the two of them. They’d had coffee together, obviously. But that had been with Jamie’s godfather hovering or members of  _The Gathering_  staff present at the coffee shop. They’d been places together with the boys, casually, as friends.

This was _just them_.

“I had someone scheduled to close here who just called in sick and I’ve nobody to take over his spot. I even asked Geordie who’s wi’ me now if he wanted the extra hours but he’s got an evening class and can’t stay.”

She could almost see him raking his hand through his hair as he tried to explain the situation to her in that way he did when he was nervous or upset.

“What I’m tryin’ to say is that I’ve got to cancel tonight,” he paused. There’s was general clatter in the background and a woman’s voice carried over the line though her words were indistinct. “I want you to know,” he went on hurriedly, “That I don’t  _want_  to cancel!”

She sighed. “I  _know_  Jamie. I’ll see you in the morning for coffee, we can talk then, ok?” Abruptly she disconnected the call and tried to stifle her disappointment.

And this was why she didn’t date. She was a single mom and it was hard enough just to find a sitter. Then there was the fact that she had a full-time job and the rest of her time was spent with Fergus. Most men didn’t really want to jump into that, clearly, a ready-made family with responsibilities. She turned the key in the ignition and yanked it out then hopped out of her car.

At least she wouldn’t have to pay the sitter.

Her phone vibrated with another text from Jamie.

_I mean it, Claire. I didn’t want to cancel._

She leaned against her car, cold seeping through the down of her coat. Well, that was nice. He said he didn’t want to cancel…

Her phone buzzed.

_I’m going to be honest here._

And again.

_I’m scared that you’ll think this is me trying to push you away. I don’t want to miss out on the chance to know you though._

Then finally, _I think there’s something special between us. I can’t say what it is, but it isn’t usual and I don’t want to miss out on figuring out what it is. With you._

She couldn’t afford to do this wrong, to wrap herself up in an emotional attachment to someone who wasn’t wholeheartedly invested. Oddly enough, she didn’t think that was the case with Jamie, but she had to be certain. She wasn’t up to dealing with a broken heart all while living her busy life and raising her son.

And what if he never found the time to get to know her outside of his own schedule? What if  _she_  had to be the one to figure it out, timing, babysitting, work, instead of figuring it out together. Though again, she suspected he wasn’t like that. Shouldn’t she assume the best about him since he’d already worked with her to plan things as friends?

She shook her head and hopped back into her car without thinking further. If what he was saying was true, then he wouldn’t mind if she showed up, right? If they were going to figure out how to navigate through their messy lives, they were both going to have to be flexible.

_If_  it was going to work. _If_  what he said was true. _If_  there really was something between the two of them. _If_  it was really what he wanted.

_Because it truly was what she wanted._

* * *

His eyes lit up as soon as she entered through the door with the jangling bell and she felt that she’d made the right decision coming to see him. There was just a sense of peace about it, like a puzzle being fit together and lining up just right.

He was helping a group of what looked to be college students. They had a couple of tables staked out with books and laptops as well as sundry plates and mugs. Most of them were packing up, but the ones at the counter were placing their orders and asking for to-go cups. She stood in the line behind them.

Jamie’s eyes twinkled and he called out, “It’s nearly closing time, miss. Is it fine if your order is to go?”

She laughed and nodded but when she got up to him she leaned in across the counter and whispered, “I’d rather have it here if you don’t mind. I’m meeting someone.”

He slid an already full mug into her waiting hands. “I had a feeling you might want to stay.”

Gradually the other patrons left. She continued to watch Jamie as he interacted with different people, cleaned up messes left behind, and filled the remaining orders. The way he stood tall and straight, the way he spoke calmly, everything pointed to his pride in his family’s business. Finally, he slid the lock and changed the sign to show  _The Gathering_  was closed. Then he dimmed the lights and walked to the couch by the fireplace where she sat.

If it had been anyone else she would have stayed home. If it had been anyone else she would have questioned his motives when he texted back to her after canceling. Those thoughts had run fleetingly through her mind. But it was Jamie and with him, she didn’t have doubts like that.

“I almost didn’t come,” she whispered, watching the dancing flames. She felt the couch cushion shift as he sat next to her. He smelled like cinnamon and freshly ground espresso beans and she could feel the warmth of him radiating.

“Why did you?” he asked, a bit of hesitation in his voice.

“Because you were right,” she turned to look at him as she answered. “Because there is something special about whatever it is that we have, the two of us. And I couldn’t let it go without finding out more.”

“Would you mind setting yer coffee down?”

She laughed at the expression on his face, the way his eyebrow was quirked in inquiry. “Why?” she asked suspiciously. “I rather like my coffee.”

“Because it’ll be easier to kiss you if you don’t have a scalding drink in your hands,” he shrugged casually which indicated to her that the question, in reality, was anything  _but_  casual.

“What makes you think I want to be kissed?” she teased.

“Am I wrong in thinking that ye do?”

“No. You’re not wrong.”

 

 


	7. TSES Ficlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murtagh has a difficult decision to make while dealing with a distributor who has a new coffee roast for him to try…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to be a little bit creative since I have been busy writing research papers instead of fanfic lately. So, I set a timer for ten minutes, I didn’t edit at all, I had to add one minute in order to finish my thought, but… Here’s a tiny little one-shot from the TSES world from Murtagh’s perspective. Ye ken Murtagh works at the coffee shop a lot and today he is dealing with a distributor who has a new coffee roast for him to try…

_Jamie or Claire?_

Murtagh was on the phone with the supplier of their espresso beans discussing a visit to their warehouse to look at a new roast.

“And I cannae bring two people?” he inquired, attempting to sound personable and friendly instead of his usual…which sounded gruff. He knew. “‘Tis only two. They own the other part of the business. I wouldn’t feel right wi’ just one or the other.”

In all honesty, he  _would_ be fine with just Jamie. The lad knew the business. He owned half of it. He was in the shop every day and he had a good head on his shoulders.

But Claire…

The lass was only now beginning to step behind the counter but she knew what people liked to drink. While Jamie may have had a knack for business, Claire had a taste for…success. Whenever they brought her a new drink she could tell them if the customers would like it. She’d told them to hold off on one, claiming it was a “summer flavor” instead of a winter drink.

“Ye canna have such a thing as a ‘summer flavor,” he had argued.

“Fine,” she’d shrugged. “It tastes like something you’d drink iced though. At a picnic table or after taking a hike. But it’s ultimately up to you.”

He’d wanted to grumble or tell her that she was foolish, but there had been too many times so far that Claire had been right. When they rolled the drink out in the summertime, the very first customer had used the exact words “summer flavor” and Murtagh had almost had to walk away he was so exasperated.

“Mr. Fraser?” the voice on the other end of the call echoed a bit and he knew the businessman was walking through one of the bigger warehouse buildings. “Are you still there?”

“Aye,” he nodded, knowing that he couldn’t be seen.

“We can only have so many guests in the facility at once. It’s a health code or regulation or some such rule. I’ll notify the front desk that you’ll be here around five as confirmed. Will you have a guest with you?”

“I’ll have a guest,” he sighed, asking himself the question once more.  _Jamie or Claire?_   “Better put down the name Claire Fraser.”

He chuckled to himself. His godson’s lass was a canny one, for sure. They’d make the right choice of flavors and Jamie would confirm the business side of things.


End file.
